Young Love
by elliottlukas
Summary: Justin is 19 years old and is starting his life at college. He's late for his first day, and walks into the wrong class, where a handsome 23 year old student offers to show him around the school, and his dorm.


The bus was late, and his hair was drenched. Of course this is how his first day of college would start out. He took extra care to gel his hair into perfection, just for it to become a damp mess. He should have known better.

He tossed his change into the fare taker and trudged through the isles, glancing at every seat. All of them were taken. He'd have to stand for an hour, if not more because of traffic, on a bus packed full of sardines. Well, that's what it felt like at least.  
The bus winded around corners and he swayed along with it, his hand gripped to the support bar as he nearly fell on top of an elderly man and his wife. Easily embarrassed, his cheeks flushed and his eyes darted.

"I'm sorry Sir, I didn't mean t-,"

"How dare you!" The man bellowed, "you nearly crushed me and my wife! Youngsters these days are so horribly rude. Especially the faggots," he mumbled the slur to himself, but the effort was trumped, and everyone around them caught wind of it.

"I'm sorry, Sir, I didn't know who I fuck is any of your business," Justin exasperated, "unless you were hoping I'd fuck you," he said as he crossed his arms.

The man stood up, towering over Justin, "You piece of faggot shit," he spat the words along with saliva into justin's face.

The driver stopped the bus, "Sir, i'm going to have to ask you to remove yourself from the bus."

The man and his wife put up a fight, accusing Justin of harassing them, threatening them, and verbally abusing them, but the driver knew better. He had listened to the whole thing; it certainly wasn't hard to hear the commotion.

They left with a huff, and left Justin with a seat for the next 45 minutes of the ride. He dropped his bag onto the seat next to him as he plopped himself down with a huge grin on his face. Needless to say, he was pleased at how that turned out.

The university of Pittsburgh was massive. Comparing it to the tiny, two story highschools Justin had been to, and the little apartment he resided in, it was by far the largest building he'd set foot in. The ceiling had to be at least 50 feet high, Justin thought, and the doors were equally as tall. Well, not quite, but they were pretty huge. The corridors echoed his footsteps, and the paintings and murals on the walls consumed his eyes whole. The architecture was pure artwork and the colour scheme had him swooning.  
He had never been in such a beautiful place.

He was twenty-three minutes late, which is not exactly ideal punctuation for your first day of college. He had no clue where his first class - art history - was, or how to get there. He was so distraught and lost he forgot how to read. His raggedy-booted feet shuffled along the floor and he let them take him anywhere. Eventually he ended up outside a door, unsure if he should just go in or knock or walk away. His hand met the doorknob, he took a deep breath, closed his eyes, turned the knob and pushed his way through the threshold, hoping it was the right class.

it wasn't.

The teacher, gray haired with massive glasses, turned to Justin, "Oh hello! Are you here for Law?" He seemed friendly enough, Justin thought to his relief.

"Uh," he was a deer in headlights, his eyes nervously widened, "I'm actually looking for the Art History room," he gestured his thumb over his shoulder, "It's my first day and I got a little lost, sorry,"

A handsome student rose from his seat, "I could show him to his class, Professor Greene, If that would be all right with you," He folded his hands in front of his pelvis, and made a modest grin.

Greene shoed them with a wisp of his hand, "yes, yes, very well," He sighed, "Don't take too long, , I don't want you missing too much of this lecture."

"No worries, Greene, I'll be back in a jiff," he replied, headed out the door waving goodbye.

Justin and walked through the halls in utter silence. He never was good at making small talk. He didn't like sports, and talking about the weather isn't exactly riveting. , however, had a gift for speaking and broke the calm.

"So, you're new here," he said, creasing his brows, "have you got a name?"

"Justin," he said as his heart fluttered with anxiety, "And you?"

"My name's not important, Justin, but does have a nice ring to it."

Taken aback, Justin went along with it. How likely was he to see again after today, anyways? "Alright, 'Mister Kinney', thank you for showing me to my class."

"Instead of going to your class," hinted, "wouldn't you rather me give you a tour of the school?" he asked, hopeful.

Justin grabbed 's arm, making them stop in their tracks, "wouldn't that be a bad first impression to make?" he looked almost worried, "Won't we get in trouble?"

Mr. Kinney's eyes pierced through Justin, "What's life without a few risks?"

Mr. Kinney had shown Justin through the whole school: The cafeteria, the few smoking areas (where students smoked cigarettes among other things), the auditorium, and the tennis courts, but there was one place left that he wanted to show him.

They sat at a table in the caf across from each other, munching snacks Mr. Kinney was nice enough to offer, and they chatted.

"So Mr. Kinney is going to be a lawyer?" Justin said between bites of a muffin, "Pretty serious for someone who doesn't mind skipping class to show the new guy around the school."

"And buy him lunch,"

"And buy me lunch," justin repeated. "How old are you, anyway?"

"twenty-three," he leaned his chin on his fist.

Justin cocked his eyebrows, "Wow, you're a fucking fossil," he stated with a chuckle.

Mr. Kinney raised his brows as well, "oh? You're probably only a few years my junior," he teased, "what are you, twenty-one? twenty?"

Justin said nothing, just gave him a look that said 'wrong'.

"You're twenty-two?" Justin shook his head no, "You can't be nineteen," Mr. Kinney said in disbelief.

"Well, I am," justin said, "believe it or not, i'm still a teenager."

Changing the subject, Mr. Kinney interjected, "Justin, how would you like to come see my dorm? I've got one of the nicest ones on campus, in fact."

He was weary of Mr. Kinney's offer, but his curiosity got the best of him.

"Sure," Justin said, and Mr. Kinney gripped his sleeve and tugged him along.

Justin was immediately jealous the second he walked in. Brian's dorm was three times the size of everyone elses, and included a kitchen with an actual oven, a bathroom with a decent shower, a little sitting area, and then Mr. Kinney's -at least- queen size bed. It was an open concept, everything flowing into everything else, and it was literally unflawed.

"would you like a drink?" Mr. Kinney offered.

"uh, water, please,"

Mr. kinney pulled a bottle from the shelf of his kitchen cabinet, "not that kind of drink," he twisted the cap off and slugged back a mouthful of whisky.

Justin took the bottle and knocked back a swig, it was almost spicy.

"what do you say, should we make it a two person party?" Mr. Kinney snatched a remote from the counter and pressed the 'play' button. Something that sounded like techno music started blasting from two speakers by the television, and with that Justin had another swig.

They grinded their bodies together, feeling each other's warmth from the liquor, the tensing of their muscles, their hearts thumping against their throats. Justin wrapped his arms around Mr. Kinney's neck, and pushed their foreheads together. Eyes closed, they swayed their bodies side to side, stumbling over each other's feet. the music pumped through their bloodstream, every beat in timing with their pulses. Justin guzzled the bottle with mr. Kinney, as their bodies smashed together. The more they drank the better they felt, the more comfortable they got with each other, and before justin knew it Mr Kinney planted his lips on his. Mr. Kinney's tongue slid between justin's lips and wrapped it around his. Their tongues wrestled and justin's hands were at Mr. Kinney's tie, tearing it off of his neck in a rush. Mr. kinney played with justin's belt buckle, unhooking it and undoing the button on hsi jeans. His hand darted onto Justin's cock, hard as a rock. He stroked him as justin snapped buttons on Mr. Kinney's shirt while undressing him.

They dropped to the floor, their tongues still down each other's throats, mr. kinney's hand still clutching justin, and justin fighting with the shirt, tossing it onto the couch. He kissed Mr. Kinney's jaw, to his neck, and down his collarbone and bit. Mr. Kinney gave a wincing moan, and pinned Justin's arms down. He took advantage of Justin's submissive position and dragged his tongue up justin's torso, ringing around his nipple.

He took Justin's cock and jerked it. He pulled and twisted his member and squeezed his balls, making him gasp.

"Don't cum," Mr. Kinney said, "not until i say so,"

He played with justin while nibbling his earlobes, and sucking on his neck, leaving dark hickies like he burnt holes in his skin. He got moans and yelps and curses to escape justin's mouth and he could see the desperation to cum in his face. Mr. Kinney edged him for ten minutes before Justin couldn't handle the sensations any longer.

Justin squirmed under Mr. Kinney, his face contorted in ecstasy.

"Cum," Mr. Kinney demanded.

Justin screamed as his load shot into Mr. kinney's hand, still around his cock, leaving him limp.

Mr. Kinney had a satisfied drunken smile on his face, almost smug, as he pulled his hand out of Justin's pants. He did up the button, and tightened his belt. Mr. Kinney stood up from the floor and stumbled to the bathroom.

Justin lay there gathering his emotions. 'I just got jerked off by someone I don't even know the first name of', he thought. This was so out of character for naive, young Justin Taylor. He was much too safe to do anything like this. He always thinks these kinds of things through before he does them. But this time, he acted. He didn't think at all, he just did. He listened to Mr. Kinney and took a risk, and Justin had to admit he was right.

"So, Justin," Mr. Kinney stood in the bathroom doorway, "how was your first day of school?"

Justin thought for a second, "eventful," yes, that was the best word to describe it. He propped himself up onto his knees, and slowly stood despite his knees rattling beneath him.

Mr. Kinney ran his hand through Justin's golden hair, "Well, I'm glad I could help make your day 'eventful'" he snickered, "But i've got class in the morning and so do you, so i think it's time wittle Justin went to bed."

"And old Mr. Kinney needs to rest his poor, elderly, tired eyes," justin retorted jokingly.

"Hey," Mr. Kinney shot back, "watch who you're calling elderly," he adjusted Justin's collar as they made their way to the door.

"Then you watch who you're calling wittle," justin said as his fingers wrapped around the doorknob. He turned the handle and stepped outside into the long hallway full of different dorms.

"I hope you have a good night, Justin," he said gliding his forefinger down the boy's chest"

"Same to you, Mr. Kinney," a smile plastered itself onto Justin's face.

"Brian,"

"pardon?"

"My name," Mr. Kinney repeated, "is Brian,' and with that he shut the door between them with a light grin that said 'My name is Brian, and I just jerked the shit out of you.'

Justin swirled around on one foot and walked through the hall, the whole time replaying his night with Brian. And what a night it was.

He would never forget his first day of college.


End file.
